


Rickety Stairs

by goldensnitch18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24349720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldensnitch18/pseuds/goldensnitch18
Summary: Rolanda and Horace get more than they bargained for during a late-night tryst.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Rolanda Hooch/Horace Slughorn
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28
Collections: Astronomy: 2020 Round Three





	Rickety Stairs

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [TheSlytherinCabal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlytherinCabal/pseuds/TheSlytherinCabal) in the [DBQ2020Round3](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2020Round3) collection. 



> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R. and Warner Bros No copyright infringement is intended. The theme for this round of the competition was Astronomy and my chosen pairing was Horace Slughorn/Rolanda Hooch. Comments/Reviews are encouraged by The Slytherin Cabal's Admin Team on all stories in Death By Quill, but comments left by readers are set to be moderated by story authors until the end of the competition in order to protect participants' anonymity.

Harry could feel the familiar tickle of Draco’s hot breath at the base of his ear. The blonde Slytherin knew exactly how to drive him fucking crazy after three months of meeting in secret all over the castle. It was a game at this point, a treasure hunt of sorts to see how many places they could be naked and coming together. Harry’s favorite so far had been the Prefects’ Bathroom where Draco had ended up screaming so loudly the mermaid on the wall had covered her ears instead of her bright red face while she tried to look away from them in embarrassment. Merlin. That had been hot as hell. It was the first night Harry had buried himself in Draco’s arse, slowly filling him with his cock as Draco urged him on. 

Draco’s tongue lapped at the sensitive spot he had been hovering over, and Harry let his eyes fall closed as his hands shoved up on Draco’s shirt. He wanted him naked, now, and shoved against the stone wall of the Astronomy Tower. It had been three days since they had been alone together, and that was the longest they had gone since ending up rage fucking following a particularly heated argument that began after a Gryffindor Quidditch practice when Malfoy showed up to use the pitch. 

Just as Harry was lifting the cloth over Draco’s head, a noise came from below them. A very loud, I-don’t-give-a-fuck-who-hears-me-noise of people walking into the lower level of the room at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Draco froze. Harry dropped the shirt and reached for the Invisibility cloak, pulling it over them as quickly as possible. They couldn’t be caught together. No one knew about them. No one. 

The two boys shuffled over to the edge of the dais they were perched upon to gaze down at the noise, surprised to see two of their professors walking into the dark and empty room. It was the middle of the fucking night. What in the hell were they doing? “Oh fuck,” Draco whispered softly.

“I’ve brought my best stuff,” Slughorn said with a jovial laugh, lifting a bottle into the air. 

Hooch giggled beside him, and Harry and Draco slowly turned to face each other. 

“No,” Harry mouthed. 

“Oh fuck,” Draco mouthed back again, his face falling as his pants grew far less tight. What in the hell?

They watched on in horrified silence as Slughorn used his wand to procure a blanket, several soft pillows, and two glasses which he filled with the liquid which the boys watching them would have desperately guzzled down to save them from this memory. 

The pair below began to drink and talk about their week and the lessons they had taught. Hooch told a short, hilarious story about the first years that had Draco holding his hand over his mouth, and Harry rolled his eyes as Slughorn talked about how disappointing Harry’s performance continued to be in the mixed 7th and 8th years N.E.W.T.s class. He wasn’t dreadful or anything, he just wasn’t the greatest potions student in the class anymore, which made Hermione happy. He already had a spot in the Auror program. Slughorn was lucky Harry deigned to show up to his class, honestly. 

It wasn’t until Slughorn leaned over and kissed Hooch soundly on her windswept lips that Harry and Draco really started to get concerned. 

“Can we leave?” Draco asked, eyes wide with horror. 

Harry pointed at the stairs they had climbed to reach their perch. The rickety, wooden, loud stairs. 

“Oh fuck,” Draco mouthed again, shutting his eyes for a nice long break from the reality he found himself in. 

Below the two boys, Slughorn was pulling up on Hooch’s shirt until it was over her head during another round of giggles. 

“No, No, NO,” Draco mouthed, desperate now. 

“I know,” Harry mouthed back. He motioned a swirl with his finger and began to carefully, ever-so-slowly shuffle to turn his back to the professors. It was better when they couldn’t see them. It was. It was so much better. 

“Oh, the stars are so beautiful, Horace,” Hooch said softly as a thud sounded behind the boys. 

“I would offer you my telescope, but I have other plans for it tonight,” Slughorn murmured back. Harry gagged, and Draco grimaced, his world having gone from pure and utter erotica to vomit-inducing without any warning. 

Draco grabbed Harry’s hand, a move that sent a shiver of delighted intimacy racing up Harry’s arm and coloring his cheeks. Fuck if he wasn’t still turned on by the damn Slytherin with that shite down there. By the sound of it, clothes were certainly parting from bodies, and moans were starting to slip softly out of lips and up to the dais where they stood. 

“Rolandaaaaaaa.” The word was a treasured moan upon their Potions Master’s lips. Draco stared up to the sky, tears in his eyes. What had he and Harry done to deserve such torture? What? Found lust and comfort and joy in each other? What? 

Draco squeezed Harry’s hand tighter, and Harry rubbed his thumb against the back of his hand as he looked over at Draco with concern. Below, the sounds made unmistakable what they could at least protect their eyes from seeing. Skin slapped against skin, moans trembling around the tower and up into the night sky, disappearing into the stars. Soft whispers of promises of “so warm,” and “deeper,” made the boys huddle closer together, their heads pressed against one another as they tried against all reason to keep the sound out. Harry briefly considered trying to move the four feet to his wand, but there was no way in Merlin’s sagging tits that he was getting caught here tonight, and so he stood still as a statue, leaning into Draco, holding his hand as they shared the horror of listening, of knowing. 

They both heard the moments when Slughorn’s breaths came harder, when his moans became a note deeper and his voice grew rough, when he reached a peak they didn’t want to think about, as Hooch urged him on with fevered whispers of what could only be described as bliss. 

Harry was sure that he would have the imprint of Draco’s fingernails on his skin for the rest of his life, but that particular part of this night didn’t bother him. Instead, he met Draco’s grip and ran his free hand softly and reassuringly down Draco’s arm to try to settle his disturbed partner. Harry met his eyes and held them as the noises below faded away, and the steel in Draco’s eyes seemed softer somehow, as if maybe something felt different to him as well, as if maybe they weren’t just two boys who really liked a fuck in the Prefects’ Bathroom. 

Harry leaned in, forgetting everything else, and kissed him softly, never letting go of Draco’s hand.


End file.
